I don’t ask where. I shift back into drive and go. It’s dark now, and having her here with me in the truck is the best course of action. It’s just a ride because walking home wouldn’t have been safe. At least that’s what I tell myself. Eventually, we pull up in frontof the Cozy Pines Cafe, and she tells me to pull over. The ivy on the outside is lit by the surrounding street lamps and twinkling string lights inside. A nice touch by Callie, I’m sure.
“You live here, too?” I ask, sarcastically, before I can help myself.
“You don’t need to know where I live.” She hops down from the truck, no thank you or warmth in sight. I think she’s going to slam the door too, and that’ll be it, but she turns around, her face softening. Not for me. For Ellie. “One more for the road, Little Miss Ellie.” She pulls out another biscuit, and Ellie’s tail wags as she scarfs it down. “You can go now. This is close enough.”
I’m so hung up on the nickname,Little Miss Ellie,that I don’t even respond. It’s what Krystal always called her. Anger burns through me. Heat floods up the back of my neck and pushes down the pain that’s rattling in my chest. I’m unable to look at her. I refuse. She closes the door and disappears without another word. Whatever this is, I want nothing to do with it.
I hate her, and trying to help her was a mistake.
One I won’t make again.
Chapter Five
Levi
Icheck the clock on the dashboard. I’m about twenty minutes late to dinner, and even as one of the biggest, toughest, and sometimes plain scariest men I know, I’m considering hiding in this truck instead of seeing the look of disappointment on Callie’s face. Unfortunately, before I can come up with a good excuse or reverse the truck back out of the drive, Tom steps out of the house to let me know they’re aware I’m here.
“You’re in trouble now,” he jokes under his breath as we step into the house.
“Shush, you. He’s not introuble,” Callie chimes as she uncovers the dishes on the table.
Tom and I look at each other in disbelief, waiting for the catch.
“He’s just on dish duty.” She smiles sweetly.
“And there it is,” we both say in unison.
Tom takes a deep breath as he looks me over, his shoulders rising and falling under the weight of his worry. I don’t want it. I don’t want him worrying about me. Even knowing I’d carry the same weight if the roles were reversed doesn’t make it any easier to realize that the people I care about are now concerned about me. Me, the guy who’s never asked or needed anyone’s help, the one who’s always been the equivalent of the unshakeable and unbreakable Hulk. I squeeze his shoulder, hoping to lighten the load, as we take our seats before digging into the first home-cooked meal I’ve had in months.
By the time we finish eating dinner, my interaction with Tris has been buried under small talk and possible plans for finding me a more permanent place to live. Callie is still living at her cabin with her brother and his girlfriend, but I have a feeling that once I’m no longer here, that will change. Tom mentions he might have an idea, but I leave it all up to Callie, who loves to stay busy, and Tom, who always wants to take care of everyone around him. One less thing I have to figure out, and if it makes them feel better, thenwhoopee.
As she and Sunny pack up and head out for the night, I wash the dishes, my mind drifting. Before I know it, the steam from the hot water looks more like smoke. My mind is transported back to Shasta Ridge, surrounded by trees as they fall around us. My heart pounds, and a cold sweat forms on the back of my neck. I’m not sure how long I’ve been death gripping the counter when Tom’s hand lands heavily on my shoulder, pulling me back.
“Let it go,” he says softly, and I’m not sure if he’s referring to the counter or the memory, but I let go of what I can for now.
Stepping back slowly, I look at him, but I’m still there, knees in the soot-covered dirt, looking into Krystal’s big brown eyes as ash falls all around us. I stagger back as the smoke threatens to choke me, the smell of burning trees filling my lungs. My chest heaves, but panic strangles me from the inside, making it impossible to catch my breath.
I can’t see Tom. I don’t hear him until a cold dish towel slaps the back of my neck. It’s a cool contrast to the heat I’m feeling, but it’s solid enough that I hold on.
“Breathe, Levi. You gotta’ breathe, man.” His voice is calm as he wraps both hands firmly around my triceps, grounding me.
Slowly, I inhale. My lungs fill, my chest slowly rising and falling until I’m back in New York, back in the Adirondacks, and back in my best friend’s kitchen. Tom doesn’t say anything. He waits for me, his expression filled both with concern and understanding.
When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “C’mon, let’s have a drink.”
He pours two double shots of whiskey into our glasses, and we settle onto the couch that sits across from his fireplace. I helped him find every river stone that’s now stacked above and around it, rising high into the sloped ceilings where industrial-style black steel beams crisscross against dark-stained wooden accents. He spent weeks restoring the reclaimed barn wood for the mantle. He was exhausted with all the work this place took, but was so proud when it all came together. We both were.
I grasp onto the memory as I try to relax. The amber liquid burns on the way down, a welcome sting grounding me as the lake glimmers in the distance beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Somewhere, someone is lighting off fireworks. The lake reflects the lights like twinkling lights that I follow with my eyes until they sizzle out. Finally, I breathe in deeply, inhaling the warm, earthy smell of the wood and the faint scent of pine and spruce from the forest outside.
“So.” Tom slowly circles the liquid in his glass, watching it move instead of saying what I know is actually on his mind. “How’d things go today with Chief?”
I was quiet most of dinner, choosing instead to let them fill me in on how they’ve been, but I’ve already told him it went well, so I know he’s beating around the bush here. Easing into what he really wants to say. But I’ll play along.
“Oh, just dandy.” I draw out the words, letting the obviousness sink in as I take another sip from my glass, and Ellie curls up at my feet. “Chief seems like someone I can get along with.”
“That’s a pretty short list,” he mumbles into his glass.
“And getting shorter,” I quip.
